


Wound Care

by celt_the_flame_3110



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Boys In Love, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Fluff, Healing Injury, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Some kissing, Stanley Uris Lives, but I'm including them just to be safe, but that is literally the premise of the fic, none of those last three are intense, not described in detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28627341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celt_the_flame_3110/pseuds/celt_the_flame_3110
Summary: Richie cleans Eddie's chest wound and takes care of him after Chapter Two.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	Wound Care

**Author's Note:**

> [reddie-fangirl24 on Tumblr](https://reddie-fangirl24.tumblr.com) requested that I write this fic. I finally got around to writing this and I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> Cw: I don't describe anything graphically in the fic, but be careful if you're squeamish or don't like injuries.

It was two months since the battle against Pennywise, two months since Eddie’s divorce was set into motion, and one month since Eddie was discharged from the hospital.

Eddie didn’t want to go back to Myra’s until he was well enough to collect his stuff. Even after being discharged, Eddie wasn’t able to move his legs at all, and he sure as hell didn’t want Myra to take care of him.

When he voiced all of his concerns to Richie, he didn’t hesitate to offer Eddie a place to stay. 

Eddie was hesitant at first, telling Richie that he wasn’t trying to insinuate that and that he didn’t mind staying somewhere else while he recovered.

But Richie wasn’t going to pass up the chance to have the only person he ever loved to live with him. They probably wouldn’t be in a relationship, like he had hoped, but they’ll be living under the same roof. Since that was the closest he’d ever come to that, he’d take it. 

So Eddie stayed in Richie’s guest room for the first three days he was in LA.

Since Eddie couldn’t walk, Richie had to bring him everything. Three meals a day, pain medication, books, glasses of water in the middle of the night…

Obviously, Richie expected that. He couldn’t walk and Richie didn’t want to risk Eddie getting hurt by trying to get something himself.

But Richie didn’t expect it all to be so tedious. Having to drop whatever he was doing to go see what Eddie needed (after being yelled at for five minutes,) then go get it, then bring it back to Eddie. 

Then having to do that multiple times a day.

So he moved Eddie from the guest room to the other side of Richie’s bed. So taking care of him would be a little easier, obviously.

At least, he desperately tried to tell himself that that was the  _ only _ reason.

But after about two weeks of waking up with one of Eddie’s arms around his waist and the other hand grasping his shirt at his chest, Richie couldn’t sleep with him another day as friends. So Richie knew that he  _ had _ to tell him how he felt, even if it made the rest of Eddie’s recovery  _ incredibly _ awkward for the both of them.

But, to Richie’s surprise, Eddie confessed first.

He couldn’t remember what Eddie even said, because he was too busy freaking out because Eddie  _ loved _ him.  _ Eddie _ loved  _ him. _

When Eddie was done confessing, he looked distressed and Richie realized it was because he hadn’t said anything back yet. When Richie told Eddie that he loved him too, Eddie smiled for the first time since they reunited at Derry—maybe even for the first time in twenty-seven years.

That happened about a week ago.

This morning, Richie woke up to Eddie laying in bed next to him. Richie got a body pillow and a few extra regular-sized pillows to situate around Eddie. He’s not allowed to sleep on his side or stomach for a while, so Richie had to do what he could to keep Eddie on his back.

Eddie had an arm slung over Richie’s chest in sleep and was as curled into him as he can be while being held in place by a pillow wall.

Richie leaned over and kissed the corner of Eddie’s mouth, then his forehead when Eddie didn’t stir. When Richie kissed the shell of his ear, Eddie finally woke up.

“Good morning.” Richie murmured.

Eddie yawned and smiled when his eyes focused on Richie. “Good morning.”

Richie brushed his fingers through Eddie’s messy hair. “How did you sleep?”

Eddie relaxed further into his spot on the bed. “Like the dead.”

Eddie could probably feel Richie tense up, because he added, “Sorry, it was just a figure of speech. I didn’t think about—”

Richie quickly shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I know that you’re alive. I mean, you’re right here talking to me.”

When he was still rigid, Eddie took Richie’s free hand and held it against the side of his neck. Richie was confused, until he felt Eddie’s pulse under his fingertips, then he finally relaxed.

“I can barely see shit right now. I wanna see your pretty face in HD.”

Eddie snorted and reached over to grab Richie’s glasses off of the nightstand. He winced in pain as he sat them on Richie’s pillow.

Richie couldn’t stop himself from cringing. “Shit, Eds, I’m sorry. I should have grabbed them myself.”

“It’s alright. It was going to hurt again eventually. This just sped up the process a little.”

Richie still felt bad but decided to focus on something other than the guilt he was feeling.

Richie put his glasses on and asked, “Need your meds?”

Richie  _ knew _ that Eddie needed them but he always asked for Eddie’s permission before caring for him in any way. Richie knew how Eddie’s mom and (soon to be) ex-wife treated him, forcing their “care” onto him because they saw him as sickly and weak. So the thing Richie wanted, above all else, was for Eddie to feel safe and that included making sure that he didn’t have to relive any of his abuse.

Eddie managed a nod, still gritting his teeth.

“Okay. Give me a minute to grab you some water, I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry, please.”

And hurry Richie did. He went downstairs to the kitchen, filled a glass with filtered water (Eddie insisted that it was better than tap and he was right,) almost dropped said glass, and practically ran up the stairs.

Richie returned to see Eddie scrolling through his phone, now sitting with his back against the headboard. He seemed to be more comfortable now but Richie knew that he would be in pain again soon if he didn’t take a pill.

Richie sat the glass of water on the nightstand (which he made sure to move to Eddie’s side of the bed.) Then Richie got Eddie’s bottle of prescription meds out of the nightstand drawer.

Richie knew that Eddie was dependent on medicine, not  _ just _ placebos. So Richie hesitated to keep the bottle of pain medicine within his reach. But he had to keep the bottle in their room, where it can be easily located and where Richie could get the bottle as soon as Eddie needed it.

So Richie made sure to count how many pills were in the bottle every day, just in case. Eddie didn’t seem to mind Richie checking. Richie  _ hated _ doing that because he knew how Sonia and Myra would monitor his every move, but he had to keep track of the medicine for Eddie’s safety.

It’s not that Richie didn’t trust Eddie, he would trust Eddie with his life if it came down to it (and it  _ did.) _ But there was a history of addiction on both sides Richie’s family, so he knew how crippling it could be. He didn’t want Eddie to become addicted to any medicine, whether it was a placebo or not.

Richie popped the cap and handed Eddie a pill. Then he handed Eddie the glass of water and he took the medicine as quickly as possible.

“Woah, careful. Don’t want you to choke. Not on medicine anyway…”

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled, it was obvious that he was holding back a laugh. “Shut the fuck up. You’re not funny.”

Richie smiled and he was about to sit down next to Eddie, when he remembered something. “Oh, I need to clean your wound. Do you want me to do it now or wait until later?”

“You can go ahead and do it now,” Eddie said. “Just, please, be careful. You know how tender it is and the meds haven’t kicked in yet.”

Richie reached down to give one of Eddie’s small hands a gentle squeeze. 

Eddie smiled brighter and Richie let go to go get the supplies after Eddie squeezed his hand back.

The first time Richie cleaned the injury, he read the doctor’s written instructions three times and he even consulted websites and a few Youtube videos. If there was one thing Richie wanted to do right, it was taking care of Eddie when he needed it the most. There was absolutely no room for errors.

By this point, Richie knew what materials to grab and how to care for Eddie’s wound perfectly.

So he went to his bathroom to grab everything: gauze, bandages, surgical gloves, a clean towel, scissors, a package of gloves (Richie was pretty sure that Eddie wasn’t allergic to latex but Richie made sure that these were latex free, to put Eddie at ease,) the cleaning solution, and a plastic bag.

When Richie came back Eddie was still sitting with his back against the headboard, looking at his phone with a smile.

“Who is it?” Richie asked, sitting all of the stuff down on the other table near the bed.

He disinfected and used a TV tray table, which he always kept clean and in the bedroom, for this specific purpose.

“A selfie of Stan and Patty bird watching.”

“I love those nerds.” Richie said fondly, opening the gauze and bandages.

He was careful to leave them in the plastic and not touch the contents with his bare hands.

“Rich, that’s mean.” Eddie chided.

While Richie was on his way to wash his hands a few minutes later, he heard Eddie call, “Patty’s cool.”

Richie snorted, washing his hands for the full twenty seconds. Once his hands were clean and dried, he headed back to the bedroom.

“Need help laying down?” Richie asked.

Eddie nodded.

Richie gently— _ very _ gently—slid an arm under Eddie’s knees and wrapped the other around his waist, dangerously close to the scar, but Eddie didn’t tense up. Because Richie has done this countless times—to take Eddie to the bathroom, to take him to the living room on rare occasions, and to do this twice a day—and Richie had never hurt him, not even in the beginning.

Richie moved Eddie to lay him down on his back. Then Richie retracted his arms, being  _ very _ careful.

“Ah, shit. Do I need to go wash my hands again?”

To Richie’s surprise, Eddie shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. Just make sure to wear gloves.”

So Richie got to work.

It was all muscle memory at this point, but he still crossed things off of a mental checklist as he went. 

Gloves: on. Old dressing: removed.

Richie never considered himself squeamish. He’s watched all of the movies in the SAW franchise and only cringed a little (even though he never remembered the clown, the resistance to fear must have stuck with him during the twenty-seven year gap.) But Richie gagged when he saw Eddie’s wound for the first time.

Eddie was understanding and patient, offering to clean the wound by himself. Richie immediately refused, knowing that Eddie could accidentally hurt himself.

It became easier and Richie didn't even bat an eye at it now. He just gently cleaned around the incisions, but not scrubbing at them.

“Does it hurt?” Richie asked when he was almost done cleaning.

“A little but it isn’t your fault.”

Richie leaned down and kissed Eddie’s forehead. “You’re cute.”

Eddie didn’t say anything but the pretty pink flush on his cheeks did the talking for him.

Richie chuckled, patting the area dry with the towel.

Even though Eddie was probably still in pain, his eyes drifted shut as Richie taped the gauze on and re-bandaged his chest.

“Feeling okay?” Richie asked, gathering all of the garbage into the bag.

Eddie hummed in affirmation, turning his head and burying his face into the pillow.

Richie tied the plastic bag and threw it into the garbage can. He washed his hands again before heading back to the bedroom.

When Eddie patted Richie’s side of the bed, he couldn’t do anything but lay down next to him.

“Closer.” Eddie mumbled.

Richie reached over the pillows to wrap his arms around Eddie, avoiding the sore area. Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie too, resting his head on Richie’s chest.

“I want you to spoon me.”

“Eddie, baby, I will spoon the everliving  _ fuck _ out of you when you’re fully healed.

“God, that can’t come soon enough.”

Richie nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of Eddie’s head.

“Uh, Rich. Can I ask you something?”

Richie kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Of course.”

“Will you still love me if I’m never able to walk again?”

Eddie asked it like it was a casual but Richie could hear the fear and sadness in his voice.

“Of course I will,” Richie couldn't stop himself from sounding offended. “Eds, do you seriously think I’d abandon you?”

Eddie shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, that’ll prevent us from going on adventures and going on hikes. Why would you want to deprive yourself of that excitement?”

Richie cackled, causing Eddie to flinch a little.

At the confusion on Eddie’s face, Richie said, “Do I seriously look like I’d want to go on a fucking  _ hike? _ Stan’s the one for that, he was the boyscout of our group.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “Rich, I’m serious.”

Richie stopped himself from laughing, because he was too. “And you think I’m not?”

Eddie shrugged as much as he could and winced.

“Use your words.” Richie reminded him.

“I don’t know, you treat everything like a fucking joke. How do I know that this isn’t one?”

Richie felt  _ terrible _ about that. “I’m sorry, still an old habit of mine. Eds… I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve loved you, since the moment we met in grade school. I didn’t even realize that I did until we were twelve. And that feeling didn’t go away, even when we left Derry and forgot each other. I couldn’t remember you, but… It’s like I  _ knew _ that I was in love with somebody.”

Richie stopped talking when a tear rolled down Eddie’s cheek.

“Fuck, what did I say?”

“No, it’s not bad,” Eddie’s voice came out choked. “It’s just— That’s exactly how I felt during those years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I guess my heart remembered you when my brain couldn’t.”

Richie smiled. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it was.”

Then, Richie remembered the reason that they were even having this conversation in the first place.

So he continued with his train of thought. “I’ve  _ always _ loved you. How you looked while you were going through puberty didn’t change that, forgetting that you even existed didn’t change it, and right now… We’re both forty, so we’re no longer in the prime of our lives, and I  _ still _ love you. So, yes, it'll  _ really _ suck if you never walk again. But that’s not going to change the way I feel about you, because  _ nothing _ has, and nothing ever will. I will  _ always _ love you and I mean it.”

Eddie was now smiling, still crying a little. Richie brushed the tears off of his cheeks and held his face in both hands so he could kiss him on the mouth.

Eddie’s nose scrunched up. “Your morning breath is  _ terrible.” _

Richie rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll go brush my teeth.”

Richie let go of Eddie, to try and leave, but Eddie kept his arms around him. 

“No, stay here.”

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie again. “Okay, fine. Then stop bitching about how bad my breath smells. 

“Fine,” Eddie said, then kissed Richie on the mouth again.

They kissed for as long as they could before having to pull away to breathe.

Before they could dive back in for another, Eddie’s stomach rumbled.

Instead of teasing him, Richie just asked, “Ready for breakfast?”

“Not yet, I wanna to stay here a little longer.” Eddie mumbled, pressing his face to Richie’s chest.

“Okay, we can stay here as long as you want to.”

Eddie melted into Richie’s embrace, letting out a content sigh.

Richie started absent-mindedley playing with Eddie’s hair. He wasn’t tired enough to go back to sleep with him but he was tired enough to stay in bed with Eddie.

Even if he wasn’t tired at all, he would stay with Eddie until the sun set again. He would do  _ anything _ within his power to make him happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Not super proud of this one but, eh... What can you do? I tried my best lmao.
> 
> Also, I'm giving up on relentlessly proofreading everything.


End file.
